


WoI Episode 10: Turning, Turning

by MrsHamill



Series: Riding the Wheel of If [11]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-04-07
Updated: 2000-04-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 03:00:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8233787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: Back to good.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just felt like beating up on Obi-Wan again.

For a while after making the transfer, Obi-Wan sat still on the grass of a normal-looking Temple and simply meditated, releasing the pain of the separation as best he could into the Force. It was a rather long process, since he still felt angry at the Force for insisting he leave a place he had come to think of as home. 

Intellectually, he was aware that the Force was using him for the greater good, and he was also aware that he had grown significantly during his travels. He was not the Knight he had been when he left home, that was for certain … that Knight was a depressed, weepy, saddened beast who had no thought but for what he had lost. Now … well, aside from the fact that he was still upset over having to leave the last reality …

“Loudly you are thinking,” a familiar voice said from in front of him. “Mystery, it is who you are, however. Know you I do not.”

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to smile into Yoda’s. “You’ve saved me the trouble of seeking you out, Master Yoda,” he said easily, smiling. “You may not know me, but I know you.”

Settling himself down before the strange young Knight, Yoda said, “Explain, then, you will.”

Yoda remained quite still during Obi-Wan’s explanation, the only outward sign of his thoughts being his expressive ears and eyes. For some reason, the name Qui-Gon Jinn caused his eyes to narrow and his ears to droop, but Obi-Wan avoided asking why in order to continue with his explanation. When he had wound down, Yoda sat very still, looking at him closely, with both normal and Force-enhanced sight. Obi-Wan could feel a probe dance along his shields and opened them, partially, easily, allowing the aged Master limited access.

“Interesting this is,” Yoda finally said, his gimer stick drawing abstract symbols on the grass. “Obi-Wan Kenobi … know that name I do not. But Qui-Gon Jinn I do. To my regret.”

“Master?” Obi-Wan was surprised. “Wasn’t he your Padawan in this reality?”

“No, my Padawan he was not,” Yoda said firmly. “My Padawan perhaps he should have been. Perhaps … perhaps turned he would not have then.”

“Qui-Gon _turned_? To the Dark Side?” The incredulity in Obi-Wan’s voice actually startled Yoda. 

“Yes, turned he did. To his former Padawan perhaps you should talk. Come.”

\---

Obi-Wan followed Yoda into the Temple and walked slowly with the aged Master, digesting this incredible bit of information. In none of the realities he had been to had Qui-Gon turned. It was something he could barely get his mind around.

Eventually, they arrived at the creche, the place for the tiniest of Jedi, where Force-sensitive babies and toddlers lived before growing into animal- and plant-terrorizing Initiates. In the nursery, stretched out on the floor with the smallest babies crawling all over him joyously, was Xanatos.

The man was obviously a Knight. His rich, thick dark hair was shot with a bit of silver and held back in a ponytail at his nape by a leather clasp. Though Obi-Wan knew he was still young, mid-thirties at the oldest, he looked older; his face was lined, and even through the joy he obviously felt around the babies, he appeared to be care-worn.

Yoda and Obi-Wan stood and watched for a while, chuckling. Eventually, Xanatos noticed them and struggled to sit up, dragging a few babies with him. “Pah, Fosha, you stink! Let’s get you changed, little one.” Tucking the squirming, laughing baby under one arm, he managed to climb to his feet and motioned for Yoda and his companion to come to him. They walked to the back of the room where Xanatos placed his small charge on a changing table. “Hello, Master Yoda!” he greeted the small being finally. “What brings you to the hell-hole?”

Yoda chuckled and climbed onto a nearby chair. “Knight Xanatos, Knight Kenobi this is.”

Grinning at him while efficiently exchanging a stinky diaper for a clean one, Xanatos said, “You’ll excuse me for not shaking your hand.”

“Oh, that’s perfectly all right,” Obi-Wan laughed. 

“An interesting story to tell, has Knight Kenobi,” Yoda told the dark-haired Knight. “Comes he does with information about your former Master.”

Not acknowledging Yoda’s words, Xanatos finished up with the little boy and tucked him back into his clothes. “There you go, Fosha. Back to the group with you.” Setting the toddler down, he watched fondly as the boy made his precarious way back to the mat and the other babies, now watched over by another Knight.

“Shall we go to the garden then?” Xanatos asked briskly, washing his hands in the sink.

“Nice day it is,” agreed Yoda blandly. “Good, it would be, to sit in the sun.”

The creche’s garden was a sunny, quiet, enclosed place, with overly large toys scattered about and soft grass perfect for rolling on. The three Jedi chose a spot near a large, sheltering tree, and Yoda perched comfortably on a protruding root to talk to Xanatos. The dark-haired knight listened carefully – his eyes closed and head resting back against the tree’s bole – as Yoda and Obi-Wan talked of Obi-Wan’s situation. Finally he sat forward and examined the young Knight curiously.

“So … you’re drifting between, what? Realities? Dimensions?”

Answering for Obi-Wan, Yoda said, “By ‘if’ are all realities separated. Determined is what happens tomorrow by every little thing that happens today. Happened have things in his world that have not in our world. Travels, he does, from worlds to worlds, where different ‘if’ happened.”

Cocking his head, Xanatos said, “Then things are different in your world. Your reality.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirmed. “For example, in my world … my Master was Qui-Gon Jinn.”

Time froze for a moment as Xanatos studied his hands and swallowed visibly. “Unlucky you, then,” he finally murmured.

“No, you don’t understand,” Obi-Wan said earnestly, leaning forward to touch the older man’s knee. “He never turned. He was a good man, one that … well, that I loved. But he died, fighting the Sith.”

“The Sith.” Xanatos’ mouth tipped into a wry grin. 

“Yes. I can’t … I just can’t imagine him turning. I’ve been to a lot of realities with him in it … this is the first one that, well …” It was Obi-Wan’s turn to turn away and examine his hands. “In my reality … and others too … it was – it was you.”

Xanatos didn’t seem at all perturbed about this admission – in fact, he seemed to take it in stride. Looking carefully between the two contemplative Knights, Yoda cleared his throat. “Council session have I. Leave you two now I will.” Standing, he looked deeply into Obi-Wan’s face, appearing to seek something. Satisfied, he turned and stumped away.

They sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the buzz of insects and the distant voices of children. When Xanatos finally spoke, his tone was fond. “Dear Yoda,” he said, “always meddling. He’s worried about me, you see.” Dark eyes met gray-green ones. “He doesn’t know how right he is to be worried,” he finished sadly.

“Would you care to talk about it? With someone who is absolutely impartial, I mean,” Obi-Wan amended. After a few more moments of silence, Xanatos shrugged. 

“Why not? Might actually help … it sounds like you knew Master as well as I.” They both settled themselves more comfortably as Xanatos began to talk, haltingly. “I was nineteen and his first real padawan and – of course – I knew everything. Master and I fought at times; I was a prideful little shit, absolutely positive I was ready for my trials, to take on the Universe single handedly.

“We had gone on assignment to Mresk. I – I don’t really know what happened … only that we were waylaid for some reason, and separated. I have nightmares about it, and the healers tell me it’s repressed memories, but they can’t seem to purge them and I can’t recall them. I only know that when I woke up, I was back here on Coruscant, bandages around my head and Yoda sitting vigil at my bedside. I – I asked for my Master, and Yoda said he was missing, presumed dead.

“I knew that wasn’t possible. I could still feel him … the training bond, you know.” Obi-Wan nodded. “I told Yoda that and he looked troubled, but wouldn’t say more. I found out later how long I had been unaware … not unconscious, as it turned out, but unaware of my surroundings. Sixteen months. More than one standard year. And in that time, apparently, I raved frequently, screamed and acted as if I were being tortured. The mind healers were sent for, and all they could say was I was reacting to some external event, possibly caused by my bond.”

Obi-Wan’s breath caught. “Qui-Gon. He – he was tortured? Taken and abused?”

Nodding miserably, Xanatos said, “I think so. I’m not sure. About a year after I came around, I was Knighted, and a few months later, sent on my first mission, luckily shepherded by an experienced master. That was the only thing that saved me. When they came for me, he was able to save me. Ever since, any time I leave the Temple, I’m waylaid. And sometimes, at night …” He turned away, leaning his head back against the tree and closing his eyes.

“I was very much in love with Master. Oh, it was a puppy love, I’m sure, we fought more often than not, and it isn’t unusual for a padawan to love his master at my age. And if you did know Qui-Gon, you know what a gorgeous man he is – he’s not that much older than me, when it comes down to it; he was knighted so young. So when the dreams started, I thought it was just unrequited longing, unresolved trauma. But then they became … explicit. And I started to hear his voice.” Dark eyes reluctantly opened and met Obi-Wan’s again. “He’s still alive, you see. We’ve found that out, over the years … he’s still alive and he’s Dark. He’s killed Jedi. And for some reason, he wants me.”

Numb, Obi-Wan blinked for a few moments, then removed his robe and deliberately spread it out on the grass before lying down on it. Arms crossed behind his head, he stared up through the leaves the tree that sheltered him into the busy Coruscant sky, trying to absorb what he had been told. From where he sat near the young Knight, Xanatos was also silent, and through the Force Obi-Wan could feel a tiny trickle of the anguish that must be eating at him slip through adamant shields. 

“Knight Kenobi,” Xanatos finally said, softly.

“Obi-Wan, please.”

“Obi-Wan, then. I’m Xan. Why … why are you here?”

Not moving from his position, Obi-Wan shrugged. “The Force tells me where to go, when to go, how to go … I’m a frog that jumps when it says hop. I think it’s using me to correct some things … In many of the realities I’ve been to, there have been things that are wrong, somehow. Things to correct. Not all of them, mind you, but in some. And I’m looking I guess … looking for a home. With Qui-Gon. My Qui-Gon.” 

Glancing at the dark-haired, handsome Knight sitting against the tree, Obi-Wan smiled. “You know, in one of the realities I’ve been to, you and he were lifemates.” At the sudden wince, he realized that was the wrong thing to say. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive. But it’s true … I think it’s possible he loved you here.”

“Then _why_ won’t he _leave_ me _alone_?” The rich, sensuous voice nearly crackled with anger and hatred. A small rock near his foot levitated and suddenly shattered, shocking both men. Xanatos buried his head in his hands. “I’m sorry …”

“It’s all right,” Obi-Wan insisted, shaking his head. “It was wrong of me to say that. Perhaps … perhaps I’m here to help you, then. If you’ll let me.”

Suddenly sagging, Xanatos closed his eyes again. “How could you do that? I mean, half the order has been hunting him, after what he did to Mace Windu … No one can catch him.”

“What …” Obi-Wan swallowed. “What did he do to Master Windu?”

“Killed him,” Xanatos said flatly. The way that he said it left Obi-Wan with the impression that it wasn’t an easy death. “He was Master’s best friend. He thought … once we found out that Master was behind some of the things that were happening, he thought he could get through to him. He …he was wrong.”

They sat silently in the sun for a while longer, Obi-Wan feeling unaccountable cold. Sighing, he finally sat up, stretched a bit and faced Xanatos. “Well then. It seems to me our first course of action is to get our hands on Qui-Gon. Then perhaps we can figure out what happened here.”

Smiling sardonically, Xanatos said, “How do you intend on accomplishing that?”

“Bait,” Obi-Wan answered, looking at the older man seriously. “When you want to catch a big fish, you need to use bait.”

\---

The rest of the day was spent in planning. Not willing to trust or tell anyone else of their plans, Obi-Wan and Xanatos sequestered themselves in Xanatos’ apartment and talked far into the night, sending out for dinner. The men got to know each other fairly well as Obi-Wan talked of his adventures and Xanatos reminisced about his life as a Padawan, and how it felt to be basically a prisoner in the Temple.

Late that evening, all talked out, they knelt in meditation. Obi-Wan cleared his mind and checked that he was on the proper path; the Force sang to him of the rightness of his decision, and he swam out of meditation at ease, only to face a sobbing Xanatos.

The older man’s face was contorted as tears ran down his cheeks and into his tunics. He was still in a low level trance, attempting to purge his negative emotions, and obviously not having a very easy time of it. Gently, Obi-Wan pulled him into an embrace, rocking him tenderly against his chest, delicately feeling for his mind and the turmoil therein.

Xanatos’ shields were a mess, and it was easy for Obi-Wan to sense the anguish and pain he felt at facing Qui-Gon again. With the delicacy he had learned, Obi-Wan helped Xanatos to reinforce his shielding and to purge some of the pain he still carried at his Master’s betrayal. Xanatos came out of his trance calmer, his dark eyes still saddened but no longer quite as pain-filled.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. 

“You’re welcome,” Obi-Wan answered simply. “It seemed the least I could do, considering what I’m asking you to do.”

Biting his lower lip, Xanatos nodded, then struggled to sit up, with Obi-Wan’s help. “We’d better get some sleep, then,” he said, smiling sadly. “Are you sure the couch is comfortable enough?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept on worse,” Obi-Wan said, shooing his host off to bed and rest.

Despite his words, Obi-Wan found it difficult to fall asleep that night. He went over the plan they had hatched, seeking flaws or problems, and realized it was flimsy at best. But they did have an advantage in his being here; Qui-Gon would not know him, but he knew Qui-Gon. He found it difficult to believe that his Master would have changed that much, even a Qui-Gon who had turned to the Dark.

Sighing, Obi-Wan shifted on his narrow bed. Qui-Gon turning to the Dark. Effectively becoming a Sith. How …

Obi-Wan sat up suddenly. A Sith. Of course … Standing, he moved to Xanatos’ dataset to call Yoda.

\---

Early afternoon the next day, a robed and hooded Xanatos slipped quietly from the Temple, walking quickly to the slideway that led to the shopping district. He moved purposefully, but slowly, as if reluctant to get where he was going. 

Changing slideways twice and dropping three levels, he ended up in the seamier side of the shopping district, on the edge of the club district. Foot traffic was less here, since it was still early; in shadowy alleyways he could still see people sleeping off the night before. 

Descending another level, he ended up before a nondescript rooming house. Hesitating only momentarily, he went inside, spoke briefly to the Malastairian behind the desk, then took the rickety lift up two flights. The hallway he walked down was shadowy and dim and reeked of alcohol, piss, sweat and sex.

Stopping before one door much like the others, he stood uneasily, obviously torn between entering and fleeing. A rich, warm voice from behind the door inviting him in galvanized him, then finally drew him in like a moth to flame.

The room was squalid and filthy. Being underground it had no need for a window, and so merely had four walls, a bed, a small holovid, a table and a chair. Seated at the chair was a dark figure deep in the shadow caused by the single bare bulb glowing over the bed.

“Xani. Padawan. Come in, please. It’s so good to finally see you again.”

The deep, glorious voice made Xanatos shiver and walk forward automatically. “M– Master,” he stammered.

“Yes … that’s right. I am your Master. But I would be more, my Xani …” The figure stood and walked towards him, resolving in the large form of Qui-Gon Jinn, and Xanatos gasped to see him clearly, finally, after so long.

His hair was completely silver and hung in a braided horsetail down his back. The beard was nearly gone, but a goatee around his full lips remained; it, too, was mostly white. In contrast, Qui-Gon’s clothes were completely black, a black, formfitting tunic and leggings and a short cape. But his eyes were the worst: matte black, the rich blue known by his Padawans nearly swallowed in darkness.

“You – you’ve changed, Master,” Xanatos finally got out, blinking to keep back tears.

“Growth, my Xani,” the seductive voice purred. “No growth can happen without change. I taught you that years ago.” He did not come closer, sensing his prey was about to bolt. “I’m glad to see you followed my directions and came alone. Tell me, what made you finally decide to come to me, love?”

The endearment hit Xanatos like a boot to his belly and his eyes closed in reaction. Realizing the other man was waiting for a response, he finally rasped out, “I – I got tired of hiding. Of running. From you. I want it to end, Master. Please.”

Xanatos opened his eyes as he said the last word and so caught the slight shudder that tore through the large frame. Hope suddenly surged through him, viciously tamped down, _Maybe Obi-Wan is right,_ he thought briefly, then put it out of his mind.

“It could have ended long before this, my Xani,” Qui-Gon said, taking one small step forward. “All you had to do was come to me. I – I’ve been so lonely, my Xani.” Another step. “You are my Padawan. Don’t you still feel the bond singing to you?” Another step and he was close enough to touch, which he did, gently caressing the younger man’s cheek. 

“Y– yes. I do,” Xanatos answered softly. “Can’t we sever that, please? It … hurts, Master.”

“Sever it? I think not,” Qui-Gon replied. “I would strengthen it. I would have you as my padawan again, beautiful Xani.”

“To the Dark?” Xanatos asked, incredulous. “I won’t. I can’t. I will not …”

“Ah, but you will, my Xani.”

“Stop calling me that! I’m not ‘your’ anything anymore!” Xanatos finally yelled, his fragile control snapping. “I just want you to get out of my head!”

One huge hand came up to take Xanatos’ chin in a bruising grip. “You are what I say you are,” Qui-Gon ground out, glaring into the dark eyes. “And I will be in your head forever, my Xani, forever. You are _mine_.”

Chin quivering with the effort of holding his rage and fear in check, Xanatos hissed, “Not any more. You gave me up when you turned. I will not be a padawan to the Dark. I am a Jedi Knight now. Like my Master before me.”

Enraged black eyes met resolute brown ones as Qui-Gon’s hand held Xanatos’ chin in a crushing grip. After a heartbeat, though, Qui-Gon abruptly turned his hold into a caress, soothing away the pain he had caused. “Ah, I should have known,” he murmured. “My Xani. So strong, so stubborn.”

This Qui-Gon was harder to resist than the nasty one, Xanatos thought. “My … my Master taught me well,” he rasped out, refusing to lift his hand to his chin or to lean into the caress that was slipping down his cheek to his neck. “I follow his teachings.”

“Then you will continue, won’t you, Xani-love?’ The hand slipped around to the back of his neck and roughly pulled him in for a kiss, a hungry taking. Qui-Gon shoved his tongue into his former Padawan’s mouth and plundered it brutally, ignoring the whimpers of protest.

As quickly as it started, it was over, and Qui-Gon pulled away from a breathless Xanatos. “Ah. I’ve wanted to do that for years now. You taste as good as I expected.” To the dazed expression on the other man’s face, he chuckled. “What, you think I was made from stone? You think I didn’t desire the gorgeous young man I shared my life with? I wanted you, my Xani. And now, well, now, I will have you.”

Wrenching himself away from the hand still caressing the back of his neck and taking two steps back, Xanatos said, “No.”

Eyes narrowing, Qui-Gon repeated him softly. “No?”

“No. I won’t be yours, Q-Qui-G-Gon,” he stuttered in his nervousness, using his ex-Master’s given name for the first time in years. “I won’t belong to someone who has turned to the dark.”

“What do you know of it!” Qui-Gon roared, making Xanatos flinch involuntarily. From below them, a resident knocked on the ceiling, protesting the noise. They ignored it. “I _will_ have you, my Xani. Oh, make no mistake about it. I will. It would go easier on you …” Qui-Gon swallowed convulsively then shook himself like a dog shedding water. “It would be easier if you simply gave in to me,” he continued in a more conversational tone of voice. “But either way, I will have you.”

“I’m leaving now, Qui-Gon,” Xanatos said softly. “I’ll find a way to sever our bond myself.”

Turning on his heel, Xanatos made for the door. A soft chuckle made him pause. “Oh, you think so? I don’t. Go ahead, my Xani, open the door. You’ll find a surprise waiting for you.”

Less sure of himself now, Xanatos gave one panicked look over his shoulder before opening the door and striding out. Qui-Gon heard a scuffle and a muffled cursing and thumping from just outside the partially closed door, and his face contorted, briefly, into a mask of pain. Once again shaking himself, he sauntered to the door. “As you see, my Xani, I’m going to have you. One way or …!”

His voice was cut off in surprise as a strong hand grabbed his arm and whirled him around. Standing before him was a grim Xanatos holding a Force collar, and before Qui-Gon could even breathe, it was around his neck, cutting him off from the Force. He gasped and twisted, to see a beautiful young man dressed in black bringing the butt of a lightsaber down on his head. Then he knew no more.

\---

“… Xan. It’s all right. Calm down.”

“I _can’t_ calm down, Obi-Wan! I felt him! He’s in so much pain … We don’t know what happened to him and I can’t …”

“He’s awake, Xan.”

Obi-Wan and Xanatos turned towards their trussed and completely disheveled prisoner. Qui-Gon was stripped to the waist and barefoot, tied securely to a metal chair which was bolted to the floor. The Force collar was still about his neck and his bonds were made of the same Force dampening metal. His eyes were opened and furious. “Release me,” he grated.

“No, Qui-Gon, I’m afraid that is not an option,” Obi-Wan said sadly. “You tried to kidnap a Jedi Knight … oh, I know all about your mercenaries, I took them out myself … and you’ve turned. We need to know why and how, and then, maybe …”

“Who the fuck are you?” Qui-Gon snarled.

Grinning slightly, Obi-Wan said, “It would take too long to explain and you probably wouldn’t believe it anyway. Why were you trying to turn Xanatos, Qui-Gon? Your Master would not have been pleased, I’m sure.”

“What do you know about it?” Qui-Gon said, unobtrusively testing his bonds. They were maddeningly secure.

“More, perhaps, than you do.” Obi-Wan studied him carefully for a moment. Xanatos hung back, his face composed but his eyes distraught. “What happened, Qui-Gon? How did he break you?” When the older man looked up sharply, Obi-Wan said, “Oh, we know a bit of it, Xan felt it through your bond. He _can’t_ hear you here, Qui-Gon, this room is Force blind. As far as he’s concerned, you’re dead.”

With a slightly hysterical chuckle, Qui-Gon said, “Little Knight, you have no idea what you’re dealing with here. The dark side is so much more powerful than your measly Jedi brain can comprehend …” he ended in a choked sob, and Xanatos made a distressed sound. 

Obi-Wan knelt at Qui-Gon’s side, looking deeply into the older man’s face. “He beat you pretty severely, we know that, we saw the scars. Probably raped you, or had you raped, as well.” Qui-Gon flinched slightly. “You held out for more than a year, I understand … and I know you Qui-Gon, even though you don’t know me, I know your strength, your stubbornness. You would have died before turning. What did he do to you that broke you at last? What could he possibly have done to turn you?”

Not answering, Qui-Gon’s eyes closed. His whole body was trembling in reaction to what Obi-Wan was sure he could feel -- the waves of love and compassion directed at him from the two men in the room. Slowly, reluctantly, his eyes opened again and one tear broke free to travel down a lined face, as he stared, defeated, at his former Padawan across the room.

Xanatos gasped. “No …” he murmured, then shouted. “ _NO_!” Turning, he drove his fist into the wall and Obi-Wan winced to hear the crack of a bone. Qui-Gon’s eyes closed again and his whole body sagged into his bonds.

In two long strides Xanatos was standing before his prisoner. “Please, Master, please tell me that wasn’t it. Not for me! Please!” He knelt and wrapped his arms around Qui-Gon, resting his head on the big man’s lap as he cried. “Oh, gods, oh Force, please …”

Qui-Gon didn’t move except for his head, which was shaking back and forth in a gentle, constant denial. Swallowing, Obi-Wan stood then pulled Xanatos up as well, guiding the sobbing man out of the room to the healers to have his hand looked at.

A short while later, he returned, with food and drink, but without Xanatos. Qui-Gon was the same, his big, shaggy head rocking in time to a dirge only he could hear. Obi-Wan pulled a small stool up to him and introduced water through a straw, and Qui-Gon swallowed convulsively, then took a longer draught. Shadowed, haunted blue eyes met his in puzzlement.

“Where’s my padawan? Who are you?”

“Xanatos is in the infirmary, getting the bones in his hand healed,” Obi-Wan said softly. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I’m here to help you.”

“You can’t help me. I’m beyond help.” The deep, beautiful voice was raw with pain and devoid of inflection.

Smiling, Obi-Wan said, “I’ve heard that one before. I didn’t listen then either.” Carefully, he gave Qui-Gon some more water, then fed him a nutrient bar.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Qui-Gon said between bites. He carefully did not look into the too-wise gray-green eyes, eyes that seemed to see right though him deep into his soul.

“I know. But it doesn’t change a thing. I am going to help you.”

Snorting, Qui-Gon said, “And how do you propose to do that, young knight?”

Obi-Wan set the remains of the impromptu meal aside and looked up at Qui-Gon assessing him shrewdly. “If I gave you the chance to destroy the man who did this to you, would you take it?”

With a sharp intake of breath, Qui-Gon froze. “You wouldn’t be able to do it. I don’t even know who he really is.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Would you take the opportunity to destroy the man who did this to you?”

They sat staring at each other for a long, long time in silence. Finally, Qui-Gon spoke, and his voice carried the first hint of hope it had had in many years. 

“Yes.”

\---

It wasn’t as easy as that, of course. Obi-Wan, Xanatos and Yoda spent days and then weeks with Qui-Gon, helping him to fight back the darkness that had encroached upon his soul. There were tearful confessions, hysterical ragings, screaming fits and episodes of self-mutilation but in the end, the pure, honest soul within fought its way clear for longer and longer periods. It wasn’t perfect, and Qui-Gon was only a shadow of the man he had been, but Obi-Wan felt it might be enough, and he was afraid they were running out of time.

One afternoon, Xanatos escorted Qui-Gon out into the garden to enjoy the sunlight. They chose the sequestered garden, with its high walls and carefully controlled plantings; it was noon and the sun was high and warm. Qui-Gon stood still, lifted his face and basked in the light, the ubiquitous Force collar glinting at his throat. “Feels good,” he murmured.

Ever at his side, Xanatos smiled sadly at him. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it.”

“Where’s Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked as they began to stroll down the path.

“He’s … here. Ahead. He has something to … to show you.”

Puzzled, Qui-Gon looked at his former Padawan. “It’s all right, Master. You’ll see.”

Around a bend in the path and just ahead stood the young Knight, dressed in formal garb and Qui-Gon frowned. Something …

Obi-Wan came up to him and to Qui-Gon’s surprise, kissed him on the cheek. “Do you recognize this, Qui-Gon?” he asked, holding something out. 

Taking it, Qui-Gon’s eyes grew large. “My … my ‘saber..? This … he destroyed it. I _saw_ him. How …?”

“Do you remember the question I asked you when we started this, weeks ago?” Mutely, Qui-Gon nodded, and Obi-Wan reached up, fiddled with something and snapped off the Force dampening collar. With a rush, the Force poured back into Qui-Gon, making him stagger.

Suddenly, he felt the presence of the Force again … the two young men standing before him, bright as stars; the plants, the Force signatures of thousands of Jedi, including two approaching just around the bend … two familiar signatures …

Yoda came into view, stumping along seriously in conversation with a tall distinguished man in Senatorial robes. As they came into view, the man looked up and suddenly saw Qui-Gon standing before him. All the blood drained from his face.

Qui-Gon’s face, by contrast, filled with blood and twisted into a feral rage. “ _YOU_!” he bellowed, unsteadily stalking towards the man, who tried to back away.

“No, I don’t think so, Senator Palpatine,” Obi-Wan murmured, placing a Force barrier behind him so that he could not move away. Yoda stepped off to the side and sank to his knees, entering a light trance and preparing to protect the Temple and the two young Knights from whatever might happen here.

“Stay back … away from me,” Palpatine was gasping, twisting in his effort to break the Force barrier. “Get this madman away from me! Yoda! What is the meaning of this?”

Qui-Gon had reached the Senator by then, and twisted up the neckline to his ornate robe, using it to lift the man up. “You _bastard_! I should gut you where you stand!”

In a lightning shift, Palpatine seemed to recoup and abruptly shifted in Qui-Gon’s hands, driving one of his own into the maddened former Master’s stomach. Dropping the Senator, Qui-Gon gasped but did not move. “You forget yourself, my apprentice,” Palpatine hissed in Qui-Gon’s face. “You do not have the strength to strike me down. It is these fools you should be destroying, not me.” He grabbed Qui-Gon’s face in his hand. “Remember who you serve, ex-Jedi. You are tainted, evil. You are _mine_.”

Staggering, Qui-Gon’s eyes closed and his body sagged. Exchanging frantic glances with Obi-Wan, Xanatos cried, “No! Master, please … not for me, not again! Please! I would rather die than have you do this again …”

“Listen how the sheep bleat, my lovely apprentice … listen to their futile whimperings and exult. Listen, my Apprentice, and strike them down!”

“My Xani,” Qui-Gon whispered, turning anguished eyes on the dark-haired man standing a few feet away. “I – I love you …”

Abruptly he turned back to Palpatine. “And I _hate_ you!” he cried, igniting his ‘saber and swinging it down on the Senator. 

To the onlookers’ astonishment, Palpatine caught the blade in a nimbus of blue light that leapt from his fingertips. Though he held the ‘saber frozen it was obviously costing him, as his face twisted in torment and sweat poured off his head.

But it was costing Qui-Gon far more as the strange assault continued. His whole body trembled with agony and he screamed as the blue field spread about the two men. Both Xanatos and Obi-Wan grimaced in empathy, trying and failing to break through the strange energy barrier to aid the former Master.

Shaking and sweating, Qui-Gon finally crumpled, powering the ‘saber off as he slipped to his knees in defeat. Palpatine howled, insane laughter pouring from him as the blue energy had, and the three Jedi pulled closer to each other, preparing a last ditch defense.

“Yes!” he shrieked. “My apprentice, how well you show your weakness! They sought to replace your darkness with light, but you are mine now. All mine! All their wretched little machinations did was to weaken you to them and make you stronger for me!

“Now you will rise and we will slay these pathetic lifeforms and take that which is ours.” He looked at the three increasingly resolute Jedi and laughed again. “You cannot hope to withstand the Sith. Oh, I feel your pitiable guards ringing this garden with their useless weapons, but it will not avail you. Now is not the time I would have chosen to reveal myself …” he shrugged, grinning, “but there it is. One must take what fortune offers, mustn’t one. Come, rise before me, my apprentice.”

Palpatine bent down over Qui-Gon, placing one hand on the big man’s trembling shoulder. Qui-Gon murmured something, and Palpatine frowned, leaning closer. “What was that, my sweet apprentice?”

“I asked for a kiss from my Master,” Qui-Gon said, a little louder, in a tone that radiated defeat and subservience. Palpatine laughed again. Xanatos shuddered, and sobbed quietly.

“Of course, my love. Of course.” Qui-Gon’s head tipped back as Palpatine leaned closer to him. Then, suddenly, Palpatine yelped and jerked forward; slightly off balance, he grabbed at Qui-Gon for support, which is when Qui-Gon brought up his ‘saber and powered it on directly over the Senator’s heart.

With a tremendous concussion of blue light, Senator Palpatine screamed and exploded. Yoda, still in his trance, managed to shield most of them and the garden itself behind a Force containment field, but Qui-Gon was too close and caught the brunt of the explosion, which hurled him several feet away.

Picking himself up from the ground where he had fallen, Obi-Wan followed Xanatos to Qui-Gon, who lay in a heap, still clutching his ‘saber. He was badly burned and bloody – from his Force signature, there were massive internal injuries as well. Obi-Wan could tell he was dying.

“Master …” Xanatos murmured, cradling the blackened head in his lap.

“… goosed him …” Qui-Gon murmured, chuckling slightly then coughing.

“What? No, don’t talk …”

“… remember … did it to you … goosed with the Force …” Qui-Gon smiled up at his former apprentice, and it was a smile of genuine happiness. “Dead. Killed him. Thank you, Obi-Wan.” One broken, gory hand came up to touch Xanatos’ face lovingly. “I love you,” he whispered, then his eyes closed and he passed into the Force, leaving a weeping Xanatos alone with Obi-Wan and Yoda.

\---

Obi-Wan stayed through the immolation, though he would rather have skipped it. But he felt he owed it to Xanatos, and to Yoda, who, unbeknownst to them, had also suffered from trying to contain the tremendous Force explosion. The aged, irascible Master was ‘too mean to kill’ though, in his own words, and was back on his feet in time to say goodbye to the young Knight.

Pale but recovering, Xanatos walked with him to his preferred sheltered spot in the statuary garden. They embraced briefly, and Xanatos looked deeply into Obi-Wan’s eyes for a few moments, then departed without a word.

Obi-Wan sat and received Yoda’s blessing again. “Sad he is,” Yoda said, indicating Xanatos. “But recovering, he is too. Young, he is. Whole life ahead of him, he has.” The old Master nodded, sighing. “Fine, he will be, in time. Trouble yourself not. Much good have you done here.”

“Thank you, Master,” Obi-Wan replied, toying with his ‘saber. “I just wish I could have saved Qui-Gon.”

“Saved him you did,” Yoda insisted. “Doubt that, do not. Now go, and Force be with you.”

Nodding and smiling sadly, Obi-Wan took a deep breath and pressed the power switch.


End file.
